V8 Storyline

===== 8AM, Monday, December 6, 2021: Salem, Massachusetts =====

The early morning winter air was crisp and mist billowed from the mouths of the students as they made their way to the John Endecott Memorial Academy parking lot to board the buses to take them to Whiteface Mountain Ski Resort. It was time for the annual winter ski trip and Xavi Pérez wanted to be anywhere else in the world. He had no interest in going skiing. In fact, he had wanted to stay at home and watch the Clásico; he’d booked a day off so he could watch it live. But thanks to illness, he had been drafted in as a substitution to ensure the trip had four chaperones, two teachers per bus. It wasn’t all bad he supposed. Jed was also going on the trip, having been one of the teachers given the assignment. Not that either of them really wanted to go, but JEM had adopted a rotation system for chaperoning the trip after the Survival of the Fittest attacks. It was supposed to be a fair way to split things so that everyone had to help and you ended up with roughly equal numbers of trips chaperoned. Xavi didn’t care about that too much himself. The terrorist organization behind the attacks always targeted end-of-year senior trips, which meant summer. The JEM trip had always and would always be in winter.

The students were loading their suitcases into the hold of one of the buses with the assistance of the young female driver, who looked like she would rather have been anywhere else in the world. Xavi couldn’t blame her, it was a very cold morning and he assumed getting up to drive a bus full of teenagers was the last thing anyone wanted to do to start their day.

After all the students' luggage was loaded onboard the bus and everyone had taken their seat, Xavi watched the driver take her seat and turn on the engine. As she did so, Xavi surreptitiously checked that the window he was sat by opened; he was aware that bus drivers didn’t like the insinuation of the checks. A lot of them got offended by the idea that they were being treated as in league with child-killing terrorists and Xavi understood that, which was why he tried to check the windows without being noticed. After his test came back satisfactory, he turned to face forward in his seat and saw the driver leaning on the wheel watching him. For a beat, their eyes met and she smirked at him before putting her foot on the accelerator to start the bus moving.

12PM, Monday, December 6, 2021: Just outside of Westport, New York
The journey had been going well as far as Xavi was concerned, or at least as well as a five-hour bus journey could go. The kids were in good spirits and had all behaved themselves and Xavi had passed the time reading some articles on his phone and chatting with Jed. They had just been discussing the upcoming Monday Night Football game when suddenly the bus lurched and began to sputter to a halt. Both Xavi and Jed exchanged glances as the driver guided the bus to a safe stop at the side of the road with the second bus pulling in just behind them.

The young woman shook her head a little as she pulled on her ponytail and then put on a baseball cap before hopping off the bus.

“Please stay seated,” she instructed before disappearing down the steps. Xavi and Jed got up and moved down the aisle of the bus to observe her and the other driver, a younger nervous-looking man with scruffy blonde hair, having a discussion. After a delay, the female driver returned to the bus.

“Okay! So, bad news, the engine just died," she said to Xavi and Jeb. “For the time being we’re going to send the other bus ahead and then it’ll come back to get us. In the meantime, I’m going to radio our dispatch to see if there are any spares nearby that are closer. So just hang tight.”

Xavi nodded but Jeb cut in.

“Hold on, there’s no way you can take a look at it or arrange alternative transport?”

The driver blinked at him a few times.

“Yeah, I’m going to try and sort that out,” she replied.

“Should I get all the students off the bus in the meantime?” Jed asked the driver, who raised her eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t, we’re on a bridge with no walkway.”

Xavi moved to sit back down in his chair. When Jed huffed and joined him Xavi tried to discreetly open the window again, finding it all in good working order.

“I don’t like it,” Jed whispered to him.

“Yeah, it is weird,” Xavi replied as he watched the other bus drive past them and continue along the road. “It happened very suddenly.”

He looked up to see the driver fiddling with her radio and heard her talking to her operator, so closed the window.

Eventually, the driver must have tried to keys again as Xavi could hear a low hum but upon looking around he saw most of the students asleep.

“Jed, Jed,” he whispered, shaking his friend who was leaning on the seat in front of him.

“Huh?” Jed said groggily as he slowly rose up.

Meanwhile, Xavi tried the window again only to find it stuck shut.

He turned to the driver to see her watching him with a gas mask on. Even with the apparatus obscuring her face he knew she was smirking at him.

Turning back to the window, he started banging on it in a panic as the driver moved forward and pulled Jed from his seat and dropped him into the aisle.

Javi felt the cold metal of a gun on the back of his head and froze.

“Too late,” he heard her say through the mask's filter. He turned to swing at her but instead his face met her elbow and he crumpled back into his chair. His vision swam as he felt her grab his legs and pull him from the seat and into the aisle next to Jed. The last thing he saw was her stepping over him and moving deeper into the bus.

12:20PM, Monday, December 6, 2021: Just outside of Westport, New York
Josie stood at the side of the abandoned warehouse, smoking a cigarette as the other bus slowly trundled around the bend and pulled to a stop behind hers. Donald jumped out and quickly jogged over to her.

“Hey, Josie! Everything uh went fine! They all fell asleep," he announced proudly.

“Great,” she said, taking a long drag on the cigarette before stubbing it out on the bottom of her boot and handing it to Donald. “Bag this up for me while I open the door.”

She set off around the side of the garage and after a brief delay the rolling door buzzed to life and started to pull up, revealing two identical buses to the ones they had been driving. Donald, after dutifully putting Josie’s cigarette butt into a Ziploc bag that also contained a used lollipop stick, climbed onto his bus and drove into the space that had been marked out with cones. Josie did the same with hers.

From a pocket, Josie pulled out a radio.

“Hey, we’ve got both buses set up. You want to send the crash team down here?”

After a brief delay, Shamino’s voice responded. “Affirmative Knight; Richards and Baines are being dispatched now. Once they arrive take their buses to the secondary drop.”

It wasn’t long before two buses painted in the style of a different company approached the building and pulled in.

“Alright Donald,” Josie announced as she climbed aboard one of their buses, and pushed a teacher down the steps and onto the concrete. “Get ready to do some lifting.”

Monday, December 6, 2021: Undisclosed Location
As the lights came up in the auditorium five figures could be seen on stage. Two of them were strapped down to heavy-looking chairs, one with a black cloth sack over their head. The other three all stood freely and were made up of a blonde woman who was chewing gum, a tall man with a ponytail who casually leaned against the right-hand wall, and a younger man with black hair and a smile. As the students awoke and realized their predicament, they started to cry out. The mix of crying, shouting, screaming and threats created a defeating cacophony, causing the man with the ponytail to roll his eyes.

The man in the middle of the stage, the leader it seemed, sighed and turned to one of his companions, the blonde woman who was chewing gum.

“Cecily, get their attention for me.”

The woman shrugged, and still chewing her gum, stepped up next to Mr. Pérez. She produced a pistol, which she raised up and tapped against his temple.

“Uno,” she whispered, as the kids began to shriek in fear. Another tap, “Dos,” the noise didn’t die down. A third and final tap. “Tres,”

“No please!” Xavi shrieked but he was cut off by the retort of the gun and the noise of his brain and skull splattering across the stage.

The woman grimaced and kicked a piece of cartilage that had landed near her boot away, sending it skittering off the stage, before stepping forward and sitting on the edge of the stage, gun held in her hand and resting lazily over her thigh.

The man stepped forward and opened his arms wide in greeting.

"Hello, students of John Endecott Memorial Academy. A very fancy name your school has there, though it doesn't make much of a difference in the end. Please allow me to introduce myself. As I am sure you have already figured out, this is Survival of the Fittest, and I am Mr. Danya."

Tracen gave a brief flourish and a half-bow while sporting a large grin.

“I’m sure most of you are aware of what exactly this whole enterprise is, but in the interest of fairness allow me to make sure you are all working with the same information here. We’ll begin with a brief itinerary of our days' events. First, you will receive a presentation from me about how this game works, then we will render you unconscious again. But don’t worry, it’s our special formula. You shouldn’t have any adverse reactions, but it isn’t entirely unheard of.”

A brief chuckle.

"While you are unconscious we will fit you with metal collars, we’ll go over these in more detail in a few minutes, and after that you will be dropped off in your starting locations. When you next wake you will be on our wonderful island.”

He clapped his hands together loudly.

“So! Let’s get started. This game is very simple and has only one goal: to be the last person standing. The final student left alive. This winner and champion will get to go home but,”

Tracen held up a finger.

“Only on the condition that they have killed at least one other person during their time in the game. We want someone who actually tries their best and gives it their all, no half-measures. If you somehow happen to win without managing to pick up a kill of your own, don’t worry, you’ll get a second chance because instead of going home, you will be placed into our next game and hopefully, you’ll perform better after having all that time to think about your mistake. We don’t want all your classmates' lives going to waste after all, or maybe you do, I’m not in charge of those feelings.”

Tracen shrugged as he moved across the stage making his way closer to the hooded figure.

“Now, of course, that means that everyone else has to die, and you may be wondering how exactly we go about enforcing this fascinating premise of ours, which is a fair question. That is why we have these.”

With a flourish, Tracen pulled the hood off to reveal Mr. Ramos, who appeared to have a metal band fitted across his neck.

“These are the collars I was referring to earlier. They are packed with explosives and will be placed around your neck. To ensure people take part and don’t all sit around waiting for one another to starve, if no one is killed within a twenty-four hour period all of these collars will detonate. This will kill everyone who is left alive and we will pack up and head home. In addition to this, and to make sure you don’t get lonely on the island, we will make parts of it off-limits every day. These off-limits areas are called Danger Zones and if you enter them or stay in them past the time we give you to leave, your collar will explode.”

The woman sat on the stage mimed an explosion and mouthed the word ‘boom’ at some of the kids.

“But they also have other uses, like helping us enforce some additional rules. These rules relate to if you try to sabotage or otherwise mess with our equipment. Now, that isn’t to say we mind too much if something gets destroyed in the middle of an attempt to take out one of your classmates; we budget for some collateral damage here and there and aren’t unreasonable. We’re not going to kill you if you happen to blow up a camera while throwing a grenade at Joe. But if you deliberately start damaging our equipment, then we will bill you for that. If you decide this game isn’t for you and try to escape, your collar will also explode. We like to treat everyone fairly and letting some of you just decide to leave wouldn’t be fair to the others, so we like to keep things in place so that you don’t. And if you try to tamper with or remove your collar, it will explode as a self-defense mechanism. They’re very shy and don’t like attention.”

Tracen made a show of doing the last part in a stage whisper, then clapped his hands together again as he took some steps away from Mr. Ramos.

“Now, I’m sure you’re all curious to see what these collars actually look like in action, so we’ll give you a demonstration.”

The man with the ponytail, who had previously been leaning against a wall, dug into his pocket and withdrew a small device. After tapping on its screen a few times, he raised his left hand in a finger gun motion at Mr. Ramos and then with a bang, pressed a button on the device. The collar around the teacher's neck exploded with a flash and a pop sending shrieks and a fountain of arterial blood into the air. Mr. Ramos’ head fell back in the chair he was in opening up his neck wound for everyone to see.

“And that’s the demonstration of our collars! I hope you enjoyed this marvelous piece of technology we developed; or at the very least, respect the danger it poses.”

Tracen moved away from the corpse of Mr. Ramos and returned to the center of the stage.

“Now, I’m sure you’re thinking that this can’t be right. This is crazy, right? They expect us to kill each other but they’re not giving us anything to do it with. And luckily for you, that’s not so. Every one of you will be given a duffel bag, in a wonderful shade of tan, from our winter collection. Inside this bag will be all the general supplies you’d expect: food, water, a map, a first aid kit, and so on. But the pack will also contain your randomly assigned weapon. This weapon could be beneficial, it could not be. If you end up with one that isn’t, my advice would be to go out and get yourself something better from one of your classmates.”

Tracen stopped at this point and made a show of checking his watch.

“Alright, I think that’s quite enough of me talking,” he announced, moving off to the side of the stage the man with the ponytail stood.

“We’ve prepared this wonderful video for you that demonstrates how the game works.”

As Tracen said this, the lights in the room dimmed and a video began, projected onto the back wall of the room.

The scene the video displayed was of two people standing in what looked to be a tropical forest. The sun was directly above and the shadows cast by the foliage were small and sharp, riddled with holes. The pair were a boy and a girl. The boy was small, slight, and tired looking, while the girl was tall and lanky, both were pale. They were talking, the girl pacing next to a shovel. The audio came in slightly after the video, and the sounds of the forest could be heard in the background, giving a background hum to the conversation the two were having.

"You... still want to make it to the end?" the girl asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah," was the boy’s reply. He grabbed his arm with his hand, rubbing his elbow. His eyes stayed stuck to the ground. "I... I really don't want to die, Cam."

The girl—Cam—continued speaking to the boy, talking about others they had clearly known and how she wanted all her friends to be together and join them. She spoke about how the boy wanted to win and how it was a trap and then she lunged for the shovel. The boy's eyes widened and he lunged for her, grabbing onto the shovel handle himself.

They grappled over the shovel, pushing each other around and fighting for control until they fell to the ground, the boy over the girl, shovel pressed to her throat.

"Let go. Cam, let go. We can- we don't have to do this, Cam, don't make me do this, Cam, please."

Then all resistance ended and the boy lurched forward, the blade of the shovel slicing an ugly diagonal gash through the girl's throat. The only sound that came from the video was panting and a gurgling sound as the girl died. The boy fell off her, rolling onto his side and as the gurgling stopped, the video began to fade out, the only sound remaining being the hum of the forest.

When the lights came back up Tracen retook his position.

“Best friends in the gardening club. That’s what they were and look where that friendship got them. Now just think about how many people in your class you’d truly consider to be a close friend, how many would just consider an acquaintance? How many would you not have missed once you graduated? Think about all the times you’ve had an argument or fight with someone. How many of these people in the room with you do you trust, do you really trust with your life?

“Now, don’t think we’re sending you out there blind to live and die, far from it. I’ll be giving you a daily update at nine o’clock, and this update will tell you who killed who and how, so don’t worry. If someone guns down your friend, we’ll be sure to let you know the culprit. The announcements will also let you know which areas of the island will be Danger Zones for that day. That part is vital; we don’t repeat ourselves,. If you miss the announcement well then…”

Tracen shrugged.

“Better hope you don’t walk into the wrong place. And finally, because we like to reward people who do good work and really show a positive attitude, we give out an award every day for the best kill, and this award comes with a prize of good food and a lovely new weapon that we like to make much more powerful than the regular weapon pool as a reward for a job well done.

“The final detail of this game that I need to tell you about is that, as you saw, we film all of it, and we broadcast it over the internet so that your families and the world can see. So make sure to put your best foot forward. Wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the world now."

Tracen looked down and shook his head, then suddenly snapped his fingers and looked at the kids.

“Oh right, I almost forgot. You’re probably very confused by the fact this is happening now. This isn’t a summer trip, and you’re right, it isn’t. So, I sure do hope you packed a warm set of clothes. Those of you that didn’t... well I’d advise getting a hold of a good jacket quick. The weather out there is frightful.”

And with that, Tracen left the stage, hugging himself and doing a pantomime of a shiver.

The girl and the man with the ponytail both donned gas masks and as the man pressed some more buttons on his device, a low hiss began to fill the room. It didn’t take long before the first student's eyes began to close, and one by one the rest followed into unconsciousness, to reawaken on the island.

Friday, January 7, 2022: Salem, Massachusetts
There wasn’t anything special about the day. The Christmas season had come and gone and everyone who celebrated was returning to their normal, everyday lives. Perhaps that was why it was chosen.

For the families of those affected by the bus crash, it had been a somber time, trying to continue on while missing loved ones. For them, the return to work or school was a relief, something they could use to take their minds off of what had happened.

There was talk of course, whispers about the bus crash being a cover-up, about government presence at the crash, about how the coffins they had buried were all empty. Some didn’t want to think about it and tried to shun those that brought up the possibility of an attack. Others went out searching for some proof, something to give them the closure of knowing what had happened.

But then, on a cold and dreary Friday morning, all their questions were answered.

It arrived at 8 AM, disguised as a nature stream.

The video was of a snowy field, with a tundra forest behind it, a light snowfall fell onto the trees and the snow was already present on the ground. Only noticed later, the name of the video itself revealed its true nature from the very beginning.

Scenes of the Field.

It managed to remain up for an hour undetected. It is unknown how many people stumbled across the video during that time. But it is thought that the engagement rate was low, although steadily a viewership of bots was being sent to the stream, boosting it up the algorithm.

Occasionally through the video an image would appear on screen for a single frame. At first people confused it with static but then someone became curious and scrubbed through the video, trying to find out what the image that kept appearing was. What they found was for a couple of frames a black image covered the entire feed blacking everything out apart from parts that were cut out leaving the nature behind it visible. The shapes were two alphanumeric characters.



Survival of the Fittest had returned.

The government scrambled, they had been preparing for the eventuality and had statements and speeches ready. It would later been reported that President Kirby had been practicing the speech to his mirror on Christmas Eve, believing that Survival of the Fittest return would be on Christmas itself.

Once someone made the first comment the other feeds that had lay dormant went online.

The videos were taken down, but not before some people reported seeing movement in the feeds, the few frames that were screenshotted were cross-referenced with the descriptions of all the missing students.

The video forensics confirmed it wasn’t a hoax.

The senior class of John Endecott Memorial Academy had been found.

They had been kidnapped and taken to fight and die in the snow.